


Wings

by TheMulletWhisperer



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Breaks down crying, Bugs & Insects, Butterflies, Carted off to a mental hospital, F/M, Fear, Forests, Horror, Lives rest of life in padded room, Sadface, Shorter Than I Inteded But I'm Lazy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-09
Updated: 2016-07-09
Packaged: 2018-07-22 11:36:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7436272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMulletWhisperer/pseuds/TheMulletWhisperer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As it turns out, many young Justiciars are never exposed to the outside world. Besides, insects are scary.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wings

**Author's Note:**

> Once again I intended this to be longer because humor and stuff but...ugh, I'm just SO LAZY AND TIRED. If I figure something, I might add a second chapter. No promises, though!

Galina sat propped against a large stone, dressed in a rather comfortable set of clothing, a short-sleeved, cotton tunic, linen trousers, and shin-high, laced travelling boots. For once, she had few worries in mind, her weapons were back at home, her armor was safely in its place, and there were no Thalmor death squads hunting her. Truly and totally, she was able to relax and enjoy the forests of Falkreath. She could feel the warm sun bathing her face, the soft grass brushing against her trousers, and the cool breeze brushing through her short hair. From all around her, she could see rays of light cutting through the branches and leaves of the pines and redwoods that surrounded the glade, the insects flitting from blade of grass to blade of grass, and the rustling of the trees as the wind coursed through the canopy.

Elsewhere, she could hear the only thing in the scene that was out-of-place.

“Ow! Get off of me! What are you!?” 

Casting a glance over her shoulder, she saw Arkved in his Justiciar robes trying his hardest to fight off a beetle with his bare hands. She figured she should probably help him...but it was so amusing watching him flail around. Her struggle to avoid laughing was only exacerbated when he tripped over a rock, fell into the grass, and screamed as a snake slithered right over him. Oh so cruelly, she shuffled around and watched him struggle. 

Arkved sprung to his feet and tried to get away from the snake, only to run near head-first into a particularly interested bird, which first clipped him across the face with its wings and then landed on his head. Seemingly unaware of his newfound ‘friend’, he began spinning around in place with fists ready, prepared to face whatever vile creature had just assailed him. Atop his head, the bird chirped, a sound which was met by an equally high-pitched shriek and a dive towards the trees. Luckily for the bird, it flew off before it could be crushed.

Finally, the friendly forest creatures seemed to lose interest in the poor, terrified elf and instead turned their interest to Galina. As she sat there with one hand clasped over her mouth and the other squeezing her knee with a death grip, a brimstone butterfly landed on her shoulder, fluttering its wings but going mostly unnoticed for the moment. It was only when Arkved turned towards her and went pale as a ghost that she took note of the insect--albeit in a very confused manner.

“G--Galina...you...d-don’t...don’t move!” Instantly, Arkved began creeping towards her and she was once again forced to suppress her laughter at his exaggerated ‘sneaking’ through the grass. As she spoke, her voice cracked with laughter, though she managed to keep it under wraps for the most part, “U..uh, yeah? What’s uh...what’s the problem?” The corners of her mouth twitched ever so subtly.

“Y-you have..a...a thing on your...your shoulder.” By now, the poor Altmer was positively shaking, reaching for the dagger at his hip.

“Th..the butterfly?” It was becoming even harder not to laugh as he reeled back in shock.

“Butter?! It’s made of butter?! Butter does not  _ fly _ , butter  _ melts _ !”

“It’s…” She was cut off by a shriek as the little insect began probing her cheek with its proboscis.

“WHAT’S THAT?!”

“It...it’s…” Galina shut her eyes and bit the inside of her cheek, her breaths coming in shorts little bursts. Somehow, by some miracle, she managed to keep from laughing and open her eyes again, “It’s...it’s a tongue.”

“BUTTER HAS TONGUES?!” Arkved looked like he was about to outright faint at this point.

“Y-yes...it...it uses it to drink uh..drink juice from flowers.”

And that’s when he fainted. Or, more precisely, when she said “juice”. The oh-so-brave Altmer simply collapsed into the grass, unconscious. Finally, Galina could laugh. She rolled over and began cracking up right into the dirt, not even noticing the butterfly evacuating the area. After almost two minutes of full-on laughter, she managed to struggle to her feet and pick Arkved up. Whistling a bit unsteadily, she began making her way towards Botrir, the horse she’d liberated from the Thalmor all those months ago. Loading the blacked-out elf onto the mount, just behind the saddle, she herself rested in the saddle and took the reins, turning around and heading at a leisurely pace towards the cabin. 

As they passed through the forest, several butterflies landed on the peacefully-sleeping Arkved.


End file.
